


Blue Iris

by maderi



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Completely out of his element here, Connor is screwed, Fluff, Flustered Hank, M/M, Makeover, Mutual Pining, Oh he's so flustered, flower shop, just a lot of fluff, undercover dating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-14 00:14:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18041768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maderi/pseuds/maderi
Summary: When Hank and Connor are sent to work undercover, will long-held secrets be uncovered along with the mission for justice?





	Blue Iris

**Author's Note:**

> This is a pinch hitter secret santa gift for @letshareapapou (twitter)  
> I hope you had a wonderful holiday and I really hope you enjoy this little drabble

It had been months since they started this undercover front, Hank an ex-con, having been given a new chance at life by the innocent looking, young owner. They had gotten the funds to start a flower shop to lure their flower loving Red Ice cartel boss out, but so far, they had only succeeded in meeting her underlings. 

Their front had been the worst set up imaginable, a middle-aged ex-con and a fresh out of university, young and naive shop owner. They were supposed to have found love where it shouldn’t be, dancing around each other, flirting openly while believing that no one noticed. 

Of course, this had been more difficult in reality, as Hank had feelings for Connor. He doesn’t know exactly when they had snuck up on him, all he remember was seeing Connor walk towards him after the rebellion and feeling as if his whole world just woke up from a long and painful hibernation. 

Between then and now, his feelings had just grown for the other man. Too easily, he’d agree to their undercover task, shocking both Cpt. Fowler and Connor, who had both prepared good arguments to get him to agree. 

That was three months ago and Hank could truthfully say that he was in hell. Two weeks ago, their alleged relationship moved to a more serious note, with Hank moving in with Connor. 

Living upstairs with Connor was a nightmare. Sharing a bed with Connor, was torture. Having to eat breakfast, holding hands, hugging, flirting, was all among the top awful things Hank had ever had to do in his life. 

Then there was kissing Connor. Stealing small moments as they worked together, walking in the park on Sundays. The glittering delight in Connor's eyes was too real and Hank didn’t know how long he could take this. 

Looking over at Connor by the counter, Hank sighed deeply. How would he ever be able to catch Connor’s interest? Was Connor even interested in men?

“Trouble in paradise?” A sweet voice asked to his right. 

Turning around, Hank’s eyes widened unintentionally as he recognized their suspect standing in front of him. He tried his best to mask it, but it was already too late. The woman got a nasty smirk on her face, one elegantly plucked eyebrow rising, unimpressed by his actions. 

“I see that you know who I am.” She started, slowly looking Hank up and down. “Not surprising, given where you come from.” 

Hank was about to protest, mouth opening to defend his honor before he remembered and shut it again. Sighing deeply once more, he nodded. 

“Not exactly trouble, but I don’t... He’s so pure and I’m -” He waved his hands up and down his frame. 

The woman smiled genuinely, looking at Connor before her eyes met Hank’s again. 

“You know, love isn’t always logical. He obviously sees in you, something worth fighting for, though looking at you -” she gave him the world’s most unimpressed once over, “I wouldn’t know what that was. You certainly could try harder.”

Hank had the decency to blush, the burning pink of his cheeks contrasting against his unruly beard. At least, he thought, he didn’t stink of alcohol and bodily fluids anymore. Since Connor came along, he’d cleaned up pretty nicely. 

“I - uh... Yeah.” Hank replied unintelligibly. 

“Go here,” she gave him a business card, “and say that Angelica sent you. They’ll help you clean up all of....that.” she waved an elegant hand in front of his face. 

Unable to say anything at all, Hank stood there flabbergasted until she’d moved on with her bouquet of lilies. He watched her move towards the counter where Connor greeted her with a bright smile and sparkling eyes. 

Looking down at the business card, Hank read the store name, vaguely remembering that this name was on the list of possible fronts for her distribution. He had no other choice but to go now. 

 

*

 

Hank stood in front of the elegant looking store, the gold cursive letters popping just right against their...plum? background. Had he walked by this store with his without knowing what it was, he would have never entered it. It looked like the kind of store rich people went to, people with too much money and not enough stuff to spend it on. 

Opening the door, a small bell rang, making Hank jump in surprise. The women in the store turned, the clients in the chairs frowning as they studied him. Hank had no doubt about his position among the patrons here. They were the purebred and he was the mongrel dog who’d just wandered into the lion’s den. 

“You must be from the flower shop!” Greeted a young looking girl. 

Her hair was auburn red, eyes green with an overall pale complexion. Her deep red lips matched her nails as she took Hank’s hands in her own, smiling up at him.

“H-hank.” He stuttered out as a greeting.

“Angelica told me you might be dropping by one of these days. Said you had a sweetheart to impress.” The girl grinned, winking up at him as if she’d known him her entire life. 

Hank was so out of his element here, he didn’t know what to say. He’d never been to a salon before, had no idea what they did or how he was supposed to act. Sure, he’d realize that he was somewhat gay, gay for Connor at least, but should he act gay-gay?

“Angie showed me a picture of your sweet man. No wonder you want to look your best when you pop the question!” She squealed, dragging him with her to one of the private doors in the back. 

The door opened to a bright room filled with elegant furniture. To the right, there was a station with a sink and a....something that looked like an alien contraption. Was it a hair thing? Did it go over people’s heads?

The left held a series of clothes, men’s clothes Hank noticed. Was this all done just for him?

“Okay, listen, lady,” Hank said as he pulled his hand out of her smaller one. 

“I don’t know what your boss told you, but I am not popping anything to anyone.” Hank started before registering what he’d just said. 

“Not that I don’t...you know, pop anything. Because, well, we’ve been uh...popping for a while. In fact, we popped this morning. Popping each other. Very thoroughly I might add. Uh...Not that I um..I don’t...” He could feel his face burn with embarrassment as he knit his web tighter and tighter. 

“Don’t worry big guy, your secret’s safe with me.” The girl snickered with glee over Hank’s fumbling. “I’m sure you both have a wonderful time together.”

“Now, as for your makeover. Is there anything you would like to have done?” She asked as she steered him to sit in the chair. 

The brightly lit mirror in front of him gave Hank a pause. Staring into it, the light highlighting everything about his face, his heart sank a little. Looking back at him was a tired, hobo-looking old man. His hair was awful, his beard unruly and sticking out everywhere. His eyes looked tired and his skin dull. 

Sighing with defeat, Hank looked up at the girl in the mirror, surprised to see compassion in her sharp, green eyes. Her face had gone soft, hands folded together on her chest as she silently observed Hank’s realization. 

“Is there actually anything you can do?” Hank asked dejected, not looking up when a small hand squeezed his shoulder.

“There are a lot of people in this word,” she started, pulling out a few tools. “some go through life without a care in the world, while others have to fight every step of the way, just to survive. I can see that life hasn’t been kind to you, and from what Angie told me, you’ve done a few wrong choices along the way.”

Floofing his hair, the girl was quiet for a little while, deep in thoughts. 

“But your guy obviously saw past all of that, saw past the faults, the...way you present yourself and saw someone worthy of a second chance, along with his love.” She smiled at him in the mirror, both hands squeezing his shoulders now.

“So let’s just cut the rough edges of what he liked about you, yeah? No point making a diamond, when the man in question wants the bit of coal.” Hank didn’t know if he should be insulted or not, but somehow, what she said made sense to him too. 

Folding his hands in his lap, Hank let the girl do her magic.

 

*

 

Connor was screwed. 

He was utterly and hopelessly screwed. 

Hank had walked in around dinner time, a bag of something lovely smelling in his hand. But the food wasn’t what had Connor stop dead in his track. Hank had left the store after they closed early, had left looking his normal rough self. 

What stood before him right now, was not the same man. He looked somewhat the same, but this version of Hank, Connor had never seen before. This classically dressed version with styled hair and a so neatly trimmed beard, Connor had to clamp his legs shut to keep the tingling in his groin to stop. 

“I look ridiculous, don’t I?” Hank sighed, turning his back to Connor as he walked into the kitchen to put the dinner on the counter. 

“You look amazing,” Connor whispered, more so to himself, than to anyone else. 

“Yeah? You think so?” Hank asked, a beautiful blush dusting over his cheekbones. 

Connor wasn’t able to reply though. Error messages and system failures flew left and right across his HUD, his syrupy processor, too slow to deal with them. Had his LED still been attached, it would be spinning red and yellow. 

As it was, his eyes blinked rapidly, then froze for long seconds, his mouth gaping and shutting like a fish on land. 

Oh, Connor was so, so royally screwed. 

“Connor?” Hank’s voice suddenly penetrated his internal error crisis. 

Focusing his eyes, Connor was staring up into their bedroom ceiling. He’d spent so many nights staring up at the very same ceiling, listening to Hank sleep, laying completely still as Hank twisted and turned, a part of him hoping, wishing that Hank would turn over enough to cuddle up to him. But it seemed that every time he did, he’d startle himself awake and apologize profoundly. 

“Connor, are you alright?!” Hank’s voice only rose as he didn’t get any replies. 

“I-I’m alright, Hank.” Connor stuttered, looking up at Hank only to receive another wave of system errors. 

Han looked so handsome where he leaned over him, a lock of curling gray hair falling from behind his ear. He wore a scent Connor had never smelled before, it makes his abdominal plating flutter and Connor could feel his Thirium pump work overtime, the blue fluids gathering in his face. 

“Goddamn it, Connor. I swear if you choke on me, I’m gonna kill you!” Hank roared as his big hands came to turn Connor’s head this way and that way, trying to free his airways. 

“You don’t even fucking breathe.” Tears were gathering in Hank’s eyes as his massive hands came up to start CPR. “Connor!”

Connor didn’t know what to do. Hank’s massive, warm hands were pressing down on his chest plate, the warmth of them spreading quickly. Then, when it all stopped, Connor’s system errors disappeared too. Until Hank’s face came into view, two fingers pinching his nose closed, as the other hand pulled his chin down. 

Hank’s lips were touching Connor’s. They were....they were kissing. Well, not kissing in the traditional sense of the meaning, but Connor felt his Thirium pump quicken, his face heating with the warmth his processors were giving the blue fluids. 

“Goddamn it, Connor,” Hank growled as he rose up to press down on his chest plates again. But something in his voice wasn’t right. The growl was wobbly, filled with sorrow and regret. 

“This shit isn’t even working!” He roared, tears spilling over as he pounded a big fist dead in the center of Connor’s chest. 

When a heavyweight draped itself over most of Connor’s frame, body warmth slowly enveloping him where he lay, Connor’s processors finally calmed down enough to get all his systems up and running again. He was about to raise an arm to shake Hank’s shoulder, when through some very unflattering sniffling, he heard the unmistakable words ‘I love you, Connor.’ sobbed into his chest plate. 

‘H-hank loved him?’ Could it really be?

Sitting up, Connor lifted Hank and sat him in his lap, the other man flabberghasted as to what was happening, but Connor ignored the expression as he wound his arms around Hank, holding him close to his smaller body. 

As if he’d given up on everything, Hank leaned in, head nestled awkwardly on Connor’s clavicle. He sniffed for a few more minutes, Connor finding himself rocking them both as the silence stretched on. When Hank’s sniffles finally died down, Connor let him be for a little bit, letting the older man collect his thoughts and feelings before asking about his little outburst. 

“Hank?” Connor tried but received no reply.

From the reflection in the window, Connor could see their display. Hank’s big body was curled up impossibly small in Connor’s lap, head resting against his chest as the older man’s hands were folded tightly to his own chest. 

Hank looked forlorn as if he’d been drained of energy as if ‘no one was home’ inside of him. The empty hundred-mile stare sent chills down Connor’s spine, making his arms around Hank righten even more. 

Resting his chin on Hank’s head, Connor tried to catch one of the million thoughts that raced through his processors, but not really succeeding. The soft curls beneath his chin tickled and Connor couldn’t help the insistent need to bury his nose in said curls. 

The action finally reaped a response from Hank’s otherwise unresponsive frame, the man in question, grunting as he huddled closer. Connor had the pressing feeling that Hank wasn’t alright, even though his vital signs read as if nothing was wrong, his display of feelings told an entirely different story. 

“Hank, I need for you to look at me.” Connor urged, unwrapping Hank’s body from the cocoon that had been his arms. 

“I-eh.... uh right, right.” Hank mumbled more to himself as he got up from Connor’s lap, walking over to stare out of the window instead. 

“Talk to me, Hank?” Connor begged as he walked up to stand behind Hank, looking over his shoulders to stare into Hank’s eyes that way. 

Connor wasn’t prepared for the deep, rattling sigh that left the older man though. It sounded so heartbreaking, so un the verge of destruction, so utterly lonely, that it pulled on something painful inside of him. Carefully gripping Hank’s shoulder, Connor hoped the display would show enough support for him to open up. 

“I’m a sad, old man, Connor. A cop way past his prime and after...-” he stopped to let out another deep sigh, “after Cole and...well.”

“I don’t think I understand, Hank,” Connor replied carefully, cursing himself for not getting Hank’s feelings. 

“Goddamn it I....-” he turned around then, determination written all over his face. It made Connor take a step back. “I’ve fallen in love with you, Connor.” 

Hank was looking him dead in the eyes, face as stony as if he was interrogating a murder suspect, but his body betrayed him spectacularly. His heartbeat raced so fast, Connor was worried for half a second that the older man was having a heart attack. A rapidly darkening blush had crept up from his chest to bathe his face in a pink hue. Despite the tense situation, Connor couldn’t help to think how cute it made Hank look. 

“Hell, I don’t even know if you like men or women or humans or....” his face fell into a mask of sadness Connor never wanted to see again. 

“Or you,” Connor added as he moved forwards into Hank’s personal space, leaning up to bump their foreheads together, eyes almost shyly looking up into Hank’s through thick, dark lashes. 

“or me...” Hank confirmed, closing his eyes to hide away from Connor’s deep brown stare. 

Smiling to himself with happiness, Connor rose up to press his lips against Hanks. The kiss was so innocent, so tender and it made Hank whine, the sound slipping through the back of his throat, the desperation and relief almost crippling. 

Unsure, strong arms wound around Connor’s frame, pressing them closer to each other, deepening the kiss. Connor locked his own arms around Hank’s neck, deepening the kiss even more, though mindful to let Hank draw breath when he needed to. 

When they finally parted, they were both dizzy from emotions, faces flushed and lips raw and puffy looking. Connor smiled so brightly that Hank thought his final day had come and heaven showed mercy on his poor soul to grant him his last wish. 

But Connor was every bit as real as the wave of fondness crashing this and that way inside of him. He couldn’t help the grin that split his face in two or the deep belly laugh that escaped him. 

“You look handsome,” Connor said as he gave him a painfully slow once over. 

“I look like a circus clown,” Hank replied with laughter. 

“Then let me get a seasonal ticket to your show.” Connor winked, forcing Hank to do a doubletake at his dry wit.

“So how ‘bout we wrap up this undercover set up so we can explore this new development a bit more, huh?” Hank laughed softly as he side hugged Connor, moving them over to the couch. 

“They never stood a chance, Hank.” Connor smiled. 

“Though, I think she earned herself a twenty-four-hour headstart for her kindness towards you.” He added. 

“And what do you suggest we do with those twenty-four hours?” Hank frowned in confusion. 

“Oh, I think I have an idea.” Connor grinned as he moved over to sit in Hank’s lap. 

 

~ End

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this! ~ Mech


End file.
